


Starry-eyed

by unagis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Falling In Love, Falling Out of Love, One Shot, Other, Reader-Insert, Time Skips, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, not happy im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 13:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unagis/pseuds/unagis
Summary: You’re twelve when you fall in love, you’re twenty-seven when you fall out.





	Starry-eyed

The first time you show up at Kitagawa Daiichi, the cherry blossoms are in full bloom and the campus looks breathtakingly beautiful. You’re shy, a little on the naive side, but a complete goody two shoes. You don't mind the fact you live on a schedule everyday of your life; things never changed, and that was the way things have always been. 

You’re a little nervous. It’s your first day at a new school after all. There’s butterflies in your stomach, and your mind is buzzing with adrenaline. 

There’s nothing but anticipation tingling at the very tips of your fingers. New school, new opportunities, is what your mother would drill into your head. 

You enter the school’s gates and marvel at how massive the entire place was. You’re barely paying attention, but somehow you make it to class on time. Being late on your first day would have been mortifying. 

As you take your seat in your assigned spot, a desk right by the window in the third row, you spot a boy. Your breath catches in your throat when he turns in your direction, only he’s not looking at you but a spiky-haired kid who you could only assume is his friend. You remind yourself how to breathe, and you turn to the window purposefully to calm down the red glaring on your cheeks. 

You find out when the teacher arrives that the boy’s name is Oikawa Tooru, and seemingly, it fits. The whole class you realize you’re slipping, but you’re too engrossed with sketching out the cute brunette that the first lesson completely flies over your head. 

When it’s lunchtime, you can’t wait to socialize and try to become friends with him, but by the time it comes around, the spiky-haired kid (who you note is Iwaizumi Hajime) and Oikawa leave before you can say anything. You’re a little disheartened, but you console yourself and believe that you’ll have other opportunities in the future. 

You’re twelve when you first fall in love. 

* * *

A year passes, and before you know it, you’re a second year. You never are quite able to introduce yourself to Oikawa properly, but you formed a tight friend group with a couple girls in your grade. They, too, had crushes on the boy, but who didn’t was the real question. He was pretty, and charming, and a total gentleman; it was hard not to fall. 

Oikawa had joined the volleyball club with Iwaizumi, and you would show up to every match without fail. When you thought you couldn’t fall for him anymore, Oikawa proved you wrong by displaying his jump serve for the first time. You didn’t think it was possible for humans to fly, but when he leapt to deliver the serve that stole your heart, you found out it was plausible for time to stop. 

Valentine’s comes around, and you muster up the courage to confess. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and your hands grow shaky and clammy and you’re just all around nervous, as you carry the box of chocolates to confess. However, when you finally make your way to the classroom, there’s another girl already at his desk. She’s cute and petite, with short hair that gently framed her lovely face. You feel your heart stutter to a stop when she, too, presents a box you know all too well. Oikawa looks surprised, and he accepts it with a smile. She’s overjoyed, and you feel as if everything you’ve done the past year was for naught. 

You make your way directly to your seat without stopping by his. The chocolates sit abandoned on your table the entire lesson until lunch. When that time comes around, all you feel is numb when your friends crowd around your desk. They’re talking about the girl who confessed to Oikawa, and you just zoned out until one of them taps you on the shoulder with a concerned glance. 

“Hey, is something wrong?”

You laugh lightheartedly, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “No, I’m fine. Want to eat these with me?”

They each take turns staring wide-eyed at the box on your desk. 

“Honmei chocolate?” one of them asks incredulously. “Was it for him?”

Honesty was the best policy, but you aren’t very honest. Not to yourself, and certainly not to others. 

“It was for... a friend, you don’t know him.”

They mistake your frustration with yourself as embarrassment, and the topic is dropped before you even have the heart to change your mind and tell them the truth. 

When you get home after school, you burst into tears and make your way to your room. You miss dinner that night, too full of chocolate and regret to feel like eating anything. You fall asleep with a hole in your chest and tears in your eyes, but you still can’t bring yourself to completely forget about Oikawa. 

You’re thirteen when you have your heart broken by a boy you barely know. 

* * *

It’s your third and final year of junior high. 

High school entrance exams have begun, and you find yourself at Shiratorizawa, staring at a campus that never felt more cold and unfeeling.

This is not where you want to go.

You remember the resentment Oikawa feels for this school, and there’s something that freezes you in your tracks before you can step inside the gates of the looming building. 

This isn’t where you want to be. 

Your parents’ expecting stare bores into your soul, and you swallow down your pride and push through your want to think about what you need. In retrospect, this was one of the best schools in the prefecture you could attend in regards to your education. However, you can’t bring yourself to find any joy in a possible future at Shiratorizawa. 

When the test starts, you lift up your pencil and purposefully mark the wrong answers. 

You start your first year of high school wearing a white and teal uniform. Your parents are disappointed when you don’t get an acceptance letter, but you lie and say you tried your best, and your best is Aoba Johsai. Somehow, seeing Oikawa in the same class as you wipes away your guilt and brightens your dampened spirits. Oikawa smiles at his girlfriend, the same girl who confessed two years ago. While the smile isn’t directed at you, you trick yourself into believing that everything will be okay in the end. 

You’re fifteen when you realize that you sacrificed your future for a boy who doesn’t even know your name. 

* * *

High school flies by, and before you know it, you’re in your final year.

The teacher hands out the typical papers for students to plan for their future, and it reminds you of the time when you were just a third year in junior high without any real aspirations. You know this is your last chance to get your act together before life comes back to bite you, but staring at the blank paper before you has got you thinking.

So far, you’ve been living your life for a boy who, as far as you’re concerned, doesn’t see you as anyone besides a classmate. You’ve been living your life behind a veil of ideas you’ve tricked yourself into believing as alright.

However, you always feel your resolve crumble every time you witness Oikawa at his games or when he smiles. 

The paper asks for your top three choices in university, so you write two prestigious ones you know your parents would want you to attend, and then you write down Oikawa’s first choice as your third. When you hand your paper to your teacher, she looks proud of your first two choices before she frowns at the third. You suppose nothing gets past her, considering other girls have done the same thing before you. 

She stares at you, disapproving, and says, “You have a bright future ahead of you.”

You smile and nod, all practiced gestures. “I know. I just really like the biochem programs of all these schools.”

It’s a bold-faced lie, but your teacher eats up your words. 

You sit back down at your desk and ponder if you made a good choice, but you hear Oikawa’s laughter and suddenly everything feels right. 

You’re eighteen when you wonder if you should continue loving Oikawa the way you do. 

* * *

College is a bore. You’re studying accounting because accounting is easy, you just need to crunch numbers.

You see Oikawa on campus occasionally. He’s here on a volleyball scholarship, and you suppose it’s about time for people to recognize the hard work that shows through his talent. He made it into his first choice of university, and you found yourself on the same campus as him. It’s all a coincidence, you tell yourself, but the trashed acceptance letters from two other schools still haunts you. 

The two of you continue to keep your distance and not talk. You’ve found yourself other friends who share similar interests and hang out with them in your free time. You still go to watch every single volleyball game of Oikawa’s without fail. These things are all constants in your life, as it would seem. Nothing much has changed. 

One night, you find yourself at your first college party. It’s held in celebration for the volleyball team. Initially, you don’t want to go, but it takes convincing from your friends and the fact that he will be there to get you up and out the door. The party is loud, like all parties are, and you can’t help but feel like you don’t belong among the dancing students and loud music. 

You separate from your friends and the crowd, which is never really a good idea, and stand by the wall observing everyone. It’s about midnight, but the craze still hasn’t died down. Your stomach is full of chips and pizza and other junk they had served. You’re about to grab bottled water to drink, since it was the one beverage you know was relatively safe, when a red cup fills your vision. You glance up and meet the coffee brown eyes of Oikawa, and time momentarily stops. 

Confusion and nerves causes you to freeze up, eyes blinking in disbelief. He grins, like he knows just what kind of effect he has over you, and nudges the cup against your hands. You carefully cradle it, confused, and he smiles. 

“Your first party, I take it?” he asks you, and boy, does your heart speed up to a million miles per second because his voice sounds gorgeous. 

You nod, unable to find the proper words to say without tripping over your tongue. He’s a little buzzed, probably due to the alcohol. Which, now that you think about it, shouldn’t even be served in the first place, considering mostly everyone here is underage. You take a whiff of the liquid he gave you and cringed. It’s beer. Oikawa widens his smile. 

“You’re young, live a little.” It might just be the alcohol in his system speaking, but you have a feeling this wasn’t the Oikawa you thought you knew. 

You take a sip, frowning. It’s bitter as it goes down your throat, but it numbs you fine. Before you know it, the entire cup is gone and your mind has just barely begun to relax.

Oikawa doesn’t get to say anything after because another pretty freshman comes over and pulls him away from you. You watched them leave, disappearing into the crowd. The lingering scent of his mint cologne makes your head spin. 

You grab another cup. 

You’re nineteen when you begin to come to the conclusion that you never fell in love with Oikawa Tooru, but the Oikawa people perceived him to be. 

* * *

There’s many things you don’t understand yet when you receive your diploma. All you know is that you’re finally an adult, so you’ll now pay things like rent and taxes. There’s so much uncertainty in your future that your eyes seek out the one thing that has been constant all your life.

Oikawa stands in his graduation gown with his parents and his friend from high school—Iwaizumi, you remembered his name being. The teachers hand out rewards, and you can see the disappointment flash on your parents’ faces when your name doesn’t get called for any of them.

The principal gives a speech, crying even though he’s probably given the same speech every year. Students are being called up one by one, but you never really feel like you connected with any of them.

When your friends get called, you cheer for them, and they’re crying too when they walk off stage. Your name gets called somewhere in the mix, but you don’t cry. In fact, you don’t really do anything when your teachers shake your hand as you walk down the row.

Then, Oikawa’s name is called and you marvel at the way one person could light up the room. He receives an award for athleticism, and he gives a short speech about hard work as everyone claps. You clap with the crowd, not really minding if you didn’t stand out.

The ceremony is finished before the end actually registers to you. Your friends drag you to some restaurant that they have been dying to try. There’s different drinks all on the table and your friends are drunk and crying by the time the food finally comes around. You eat quietly, adding your opinion every once in a while. However, your mind is too muddled with thoughts about what you wanted to do with your future.

For the first time in your life, you begin to doubt if everything you did was worth it. Constants have always controlled your life, but it seems the one constant you’ve followed has only set you further away from the path. 

You’re twenty-three when you graduate, and Oikawa starts to feel more like a distant dream. 

* * *

For people like you, it’s easy to get lost in the crowd, both metaphorically and literally speaking. You work a nine to five office job where regulars come and go like leaves in the wind.

There’s nothing about you that stands out, and you fear everyday that you might lose your job to someone slightly more qualified than you. It’s tiring, works you to the bone, and you find yourself pulling more all-nighters than what you’re paid to do. Overtime only pays you so much, after all. 

The apartment building you live in is small. Papers clutter your desk at home like they do at work, and you never could seem to catch a break. Your fridge is stocked with beer and takeout, an unhealthy combination but your parents don’t really dictate your life now.

The television buzzes static while you try to fix the signal just enough to watch the news. Nothing has changed. The news talks about recent discoveries, petty crimes, and then he shows up.

Oikawa looks the exact same as he did all those years ago with his swept brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. The interviewer asks him questions about his professional volleyball career, and he answers her straight to the point with a smile that’s so wide it’s got to be fake. You wonder why you haven’t noticed how tired he looks until now. Then, she turns to him with the microphone and starts to ask about his girlfriend, a stunning model whose face is plastered on the cover of almost every single magazine. 

You pulled the plug of the TV before you even realized you had the cord in your hand. 

With a frustrated sigh, you leave the plug on the floor before returning to your cold dinner and piles of paperwork you needed to sort before the next meeting. You pop open your emergency wine that you saved for a rainy day. It’s expensive (three thousand yen!) but it goes down smoothly exactly like water. The whole bottle is gone by the time you’re done, but it does little to numb the pain in your chest. 

You’re twenty-five with a job you hate with a passion, and you pin the blame on the boy who sets your heart afire.

* * *

You take the train to work everyday because it’s the one place that remains quiet enough for you to think. People tend to keep to themselves, and most come and go before you ever realize they were there. The passing scenery blurs before you, and the entire city is barely beginning to wake up. You stop at a total of three stations before you reach your destination, so you busy yourself with checking your phone and responding to emails. 

By the second stop, you hear a chorus of hushed gasps and squeals. Naturally curious, you glance upwards only to meet the gaze of Oikawa. He smiles at you before squeezing through bodies to get to you. When he does, he gestures at the seat beside you.

“Is the seat taken?”

You shake your head, stunned. Somehow, you manage to find your voice. “No, feel free.”

Oikawa wordlessly sits beside you, and now you’re well aware of the stares of the other female passengers. You don’t look up at them though because looking up would result in conflict, which is what you’re trying to avoid.

Turning back to your phone, you try to still the rhythmic tempo of your heart. It’s years too late for you to finally admit to your feelings in front of him. You’re no longer twelve and still dreaming, so it’s time for you to wake up.

The seconds counting down to your stop seem to tick by slowly, and you’re painfully aware of the heat emanating from his side and the way his shoulders would rise and fall with each breath. The station comes into view, and you begin tapping your foot to the click clack of the tracks as the train finally halts to a stop. The doors fold open, and you hurry out of your seat to leave. You’re almost out of sight and out of mind when he reaches out to snag your wrist. You freeze, paralyzed.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Oikawa asks in such an earnest way you almost feel compelled to stay and tell him everything.

Then, you realize something. He doesn’t know you. Though he might recognize you or pin down the fact you look familiar, he doesn’t know who you are.

You never made as big of an impact on his life like he did to yours. 

“Sorry,” you say. An apologetic smile dances on your face as you gently twist your wrist out of his grasp. “You might’ve confused me for someone else.”

“You might be right, sorry for taking up your time.” He laughs it off easily, and your heart calms down. It’s a nice sound but also a melancholic chime. 

“It’s fine.”

You pause, unsure of what to say before you awkwardly shuffle around and leave.

“Goodbye,” you add with a polite wave for extra measure. 

He waves you off as you leave, and after finally stepping onto the platform, you feel as if a weight has finally lifted off your chest. The path ahead looks a little brighter, a little lighter now. And although you’ve lost one of your constants, you figure you can start establishing newer ones that would guide you through the future. 

You’re twenty-seven when you learn it’s alright to let go.

**Author's Note:**

> i really, really love this [beautiful bastard](https://i.imgur.com/vLMLUkv.gif)  
> kind of a vent piece? but not really.  
> being a junior and almost soon to be out of high school has me thinking


End file.
